


Say My Name

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Courtship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Spidey, Spidey, always Spidey! You never use my name!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say My Name

It’s during their thirty-second date - yes, he counted them, it’s not that weird, is it? - that the thought occurs to Peter.

In fact Wade’s words are what makes him realize this small, subtle, but essential detail.

“Spidey, your booty is so nice, spandex really suits you.” the merc is mumbling, groping appreciatively the firm buttcheeks and rubbing his bigger body against Peter’s.

“Hey, my ass isn’t the only nice thing I got!” the vigilante laughs awkwardly, a bit hurt by the other man’s words. His smile turns brighter and he blushes when Wade grins at him, but his expression becomes unpleasantly surprised when the merc says: “Of course not, web-head! Your legs are totally sweet too!” Wade then resumes the kisses on his neck and the groping, murmuring: “Your lips are also fantastic, Spidey.”

And _this_ is when Peter realizes it.

He frowns and pushes the merc away to glare at him.

“We have been seeing each other for quite a lot.” he coldly says, ignoring Wade’s dumbfounded face and the way his mouth is still pushed out to kiss him. “You know my face and name, but you still call me ‘Spidey’ and compliment only my ‘perfect round ass’, my ‘great dick’ and ‘soft lips totally made of honey and candies because they are too sweet to be made of something else’.”

Wade looks even more shocked and lost now; his scarred face is practically screaming “so what?”.

Peter snarls, pulling out of his hold and getting up, feeling a hot, angry blush burning on his cheeks and frustration and mortification growing inside.

“Hey, sweetums, what’s wrong?” Wade hastily gets up too and buckles the pants of his Deadpool costume, blinking at the young man who is brooding and looking stubbornly at everything else that isn’t him. “Is it because I’m not romantic? Hell, you know I didn’t grow up in a very nice and children-friendly family environment! Of course my romantic skills suck!”

Peter sulks some more, his frown so massive the merc is sure his eyes are going to disappear into his eyebrows.

“Give me advices then!” Wade insists tugging at Peter’s suit; the young man steps back and Wade begins to panic. “Come on, Spidey, don’t be like that…”

“Spidey, Spidey, always Spidey! You never use my name!” Peter snaps, making the merc jumps at the pain and rage in his voice. “And what do you mean with ‘like that’? You don’t know how usually I am like, you don’t even _care!_ ”

“I do!” Wade retorts, his voice raising too. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, all he knows is that he did something wrong and ruined everything as always. He sighs exasperatedly, scratching the back of his bald head, and then opens wide his arms in a defeated gesture: “Listen, I…”

“I don’t think you actually care.” Peter snarls, his voice trembling with emotion. “You… you are just staying with me because I’m Spider-Man, right? The cool hero in spandex with a great ass who saves people’s life, the hero you are finally fucking!”

“Hey!” Wade shouts approaching with a raised finger, his face further disfigured by anger and indignation. “That’s not true, I…”

“Well, I have some news for you, _Deadpool_.” Peter hisses standing on the edge of the building to swing away. “I’m not just some trophy or sex toy without feelings! I’m… I’m serious about this relationship and I thought you were too, but I guess I was wrong.” He opens his mouth, suddenly sadder and torn by the chaotic emotions raging into him. “But if you want to continue it, then I want you to do it with _me_ and not with Spider-Man.”

And before Wade can respond, he puts on his mask and shoots a web, disappearing into the night.

 

They don’t see each other for an entire week and Peter guesses he was right after all. Maybe Deadpool did wanted only his dick to satisfy his “I’m-fucking-my-perfect-hero” needs.

Still he remembers Wade’s rage and pain at his accusation and he feels hope too, tucked shy and quiet inside his heart, but it’s there, warming him when his thoughts become too ugly or angry.

His Spider-Man identity has always been a pain in the ass, but he never thought it would have caused this painful inner turmoil because some crazy mercenary wouldn’t call him by his real name.

‘I can’t believe he would be so shallow.’ Peter thinks watching another old _Star Wars_ episode. He has nothing better to do and it’s not like his surprisingly brief patrol has been that funny anyway. Wade didn’t show up, his mood has been sulkier than ever and his pride still hurts.

‘I bet he doesn’t even know my favorite food.’ he keeps grumbling inside his mind, munching slowly another bite of hot dog bought on the way home. ‘I know his is tacos. Not chimichangas, he told me that’s actually a lie even though I didn’t understand what he meant. Still I have a slight idea of what he likes!’

So he has a beautiful butt, huh? Initially those compliments made Peter blush and smiles shyly, because who wouldn’t? But Wade never complimented anything else, never tried to know him better, never inquired about his tastes, thoughts, hobbies. He just appeared on the usual rooftops, made appreciative comments about his body and then they made out, masks forgotten, but secret identities still on… at least from Wade’s part.

“You can call me Peter.” the young man told him countless times. Wade always answered with a strange smile and pretended he didn’t hear it.

“Well, I’m sorry, my dear psychotic mercenary.” Peter grumbles getting up to take more ketchup to put on his hot dog. “If you want to keep getting into my pants, then you will have to be brave and face the real me, not ‘Spidey-babe’.” Then Peter takes a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and his shoulders slump.

He supposes he doesn’t look that bad, but there are better looking people in the world. More _interesting_ people. People who are great, funny and neat even without a secret identity.

Maybe that’s his only appeal, Peter thinks with a hint of panic and distress. After all, why someone like Wade would ever want to date someone like _him?_ He has got nothing: no money, no cool job, he is so unsure and awkward he has to hide behind a witty and ironic façade… Of course someone like Wade would be interested only in his Spider-Man part, the _best_ part of him.

“It’s okay.” Peter says softly to no one. “Guess it was too weird to work, anyway.”

Still he can’t help but feel the sting of sadness and disappointment inside his heart.

 

“Parker!”

Peter jumps out of his seat when an exotic bouquet of flowers lands on his desk.

Jonah grins down at him, an unfamiliar and particularly creepy sight. For a moment Peter wonders if this gift comes from him and shivers.

“The mail guy just brought this. It’s for you, no sender.” Jonah lets out his hoarse laughter caused by too many cigars and pats his shoulder. “It’s usually the other way around, you know, boy? You still have a lot to learn!”

“T-Thanks.” Peter stutters weakly as Jonah walks away still chuckling. The flowers are beautiful, Peter never saw them before, their scent is delicate and nice, their colours bright and cheerful.

There are two notes attached to the bouquet: one is simple, white with his name scribbled on it in a childish handwriting; the other is a special discount for the hot dogs stand Peter always eats at after work. He didn’t manage to obtain it - you had to buy an _inhuman_ number of hot dogs - and is shocked to actually have it in his hands now. It will sure come in handy, considering how many hot dogs he consumes in one single day.

Peter sighs, ignoring the curious stares and giggles of his coworkers and the hope growing stronger in his heart.

 

The next day there is a chocolate box in front of his door. Peter opens it cautiously: it’s still full, but there are some crumbs scattered inside. Tacos crumbs?

That afternoon the mailman comes to deliver a small package. It’s a book about photography with a note slipped inside the first page: _“I’m not saying you are a bad photographer, but I thought this could be useful. I hope so, I don’t know shit about photography anyway. Be careful tonight, honey!”_

That night he finds another package on the rooftop he and Wade visited after every patrol. There are a Deadpool scarf and gloves inside and Peter is extremely grateful, because the air is chilly and the wind hurts him every time he swings across the city. The Deadpool logo may be too big, but the fabric is warm, of good quality, and Peter’s mood is brighter than the lights below.

 

Then, two days later, Wade is waiting for him outside The Daily Bugle.

Peter recognizes immediately his face, not well hidden by the hoodie and cap, his stiff, awkward stance. His Deadpool hoodie helps too.

“Hi.” Peter softly says approaching him. Wade’s eyes look around, then linger on him for long seconds.

“Hi.”

“Long time no see.” Peter tightens his Deadpool scarf around the neck and notices how Wade gazes at it with satisfaction and pride. “What… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for my sweetums, what else?” Wade shrugs, trying to dismiss the seriousness of this, but he can’t fool Peter and his shyness and awkwardness are a spectacular sight. “This is what… what people like us do, right?”

“‘People like us’?” Peter repeats with a snort, folding his arms. “What does that mean?”

Wade’s face crumples, making the scars shift and change places, he shuffles his feet on the ground, hands in his pockets, and _whines._

“You know what I mean!” he says looking at everything but Peter. “People like us! People who kiss and date and hold hands!”

“We never held hands… not yet.” the young man replies, a smile forming on his lips. “So you mean ‘boyfriends’, right?”

Wade looks like he wants to run away and hide into a hole for the rest of his life, but he faces the panic and embarrassment and nods, eyes casted down. A sudden thought occurs to him and he adds, grumbling under his breath: “I’m glad you liked the scarf and gloves.”

“They are very warm, thank you. Thanks for the flowers, the chocolate, the book and the discount too.” Peter laughs seeing his blush and extends a hand to take his, bare and cold.

“I thought about it, sweetums.” Wade suddenly says, making the other man’s smile disappear. “No, no, don’t…! Listen, you were right, okay? I mean, no! No, you were _not_ right about the whole ‘you just want to fuck your hero’ thing! That’s _totally_ wrong, okay? But you were right about the rest, like how I never used your name, how I complimented only your body and such…”

The merc sighs, pinching his nose, looking in extreme pain.

“I’m not good at this, I’m not good at _anything_ apart from shooting, dismembering people and myself! I…” He finally looks at Peter, who came closer to him and he can feel the nice heat emanating from him. Wade gulps, his scarred features full of anxiety and fear. “It’s not true I don’t care about your tastes, about the _real_ you. I knew _everything_ about you since from the start!”

He shakes his head, instinctively trying to pull away, but Peter’s grip holds him still.

“I didn’t want to dare and hope too much. How could a guy like you find something good and interesting in someone like me? So I put a distance, a way not to hope too much about Peter Parker because I thought… I thought I couldn’t have _you_.” Wade lowers his head, sighing.

Peter shivers, but not because of the cold. He presses himself against Wade, who automatically puts his hands on his arms to hold him.

“I want to continue this, Peter.” Wade says and it sounds almost like a prayer.

“Say it again.” the young man whispers, his lips a few inches from Wade’s. The poor merc gulps again, his eyes settled on the other man’s smile.

“I… I want to continue this?” he repeats and Peter is now about to kiss him, hot breath over chapped mouth.

“Say my name again.”

And Wade does, after letting out a shaky relieved chuckle and wrapping his arms around the lithe body.


End file.
